


Aftermath

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Campfires, Caretaking, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: After their fateful confrontation with Beren and Lúthien, Celegorm makes sure Curufin is cared for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegreatpumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/gifts).



In a shady dell far from the terrifying couple, Celegorm drew their horse to a halt and dropped down to the ground, then helped Curufin down. They were both still breathing hard, Curufin wheezing, and neither of them seemed to have the strength to do more than stand there, silent. Celegorm put his arms around Curufin, holding him close, and listened to the frantic rabbit pace of his heart.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Celegorm said after a while, when Curufin’s breathing showed no signs of growing calmer, while his own had eased. He tipped Curufin’s head back a little to look at the bruises on his throat. “What a vicious brute,” he said, gently caressing the marks that Beren’s fingers had left. “More fool I for thinking the daughter of Thingol had better taste than to become enamoured of such as he.”

“They are the greater fools,” Curufin rasped, “and Findaráto a fool right alongside them.” His chest heaved with the effort of speaking, forcing rough words out through near-crushed vocal cords.

“Don’t speak,” Celegorm said. “I know.” He drew his hand down over Curufin’s chest in a movement that was half a caress, half checking him for further injuries. “Come, we’ll go no further today. We’re safe enough here.” He led Curufin over to a fallen tree trunk, sat him down, and fussed over him in the way he knew Curufin liked, touching his hair, straightening his clothes, taking a blanket from the pack on his horse and wrapping it around him. He also took care of the horse, speaking to her with soothing words, freeing her from the burdens she carried, and letting her go to find grass, knowing she would return at his call.

Celegorm, after this, looked up at the sky, checking the clouds to see what the weather would be. In early autumn, a storm was not entirely out of the question, but the sky looked favourable, the sunset bright red off the few clouds towards the West. He gathered some wood from the fallen tree and cleared a space in the centre of the dell from grass, then piled the wood upon it, and started the fire, building it up slowly. All the while, Curufin sat silently, head bowed, eyes unreadable.

Once the fire was built up sufficiently, Celegorm took the grass he had removed and piled it up in the approximate shape of a bed, then removed another blanket from his pack and laid it over the top of the grass bed. “Come here, Curvo,” he said, and Curufin, with a effort, stood up, walked over, and then settled down on the bed, in the circle of his brother’s arms. Celegorm arranged a blanket over them both.

Silence fell. Celegorm pressed a light kiss to Curufin’s brow, then another to his cheek, and a third to his mouth. Curufin sighed against him, visibly relaxing, and cuddled close.

“Thank you, beloved,” he said at last, voice still raspy, and Celegorm did not need him to elaborate.


End file.
